Legend of the Galactic Heroes Drabble Collection
by luffyluffy
Summary: A series of short stories about the universe and it's inhabitants. Check Author Note.
1. Chapter 1

Author's note: I write a lot for my friends, and while I'd like to publish them, often times they're too short or too silly to actually tack down as anything substantial. So, this collection is basically a dumping ground for my short thingys that don't deserve their own url. Most likely pairings are Oberstein/Ferner and Mecklinger/Bittenfeld with varying degrees of nsfw-ness thrown in. Often times these will be totally unedited and probably unfinished. Anyway, thanks for reading!

* * *

"Anton…"

Snow was beginning to pile in his hair.

"What _are_ you doing?"

Ferner sat up from his position on the ground.

"Isn't it obvious?" Oberstein outstretched a hand and Ferner used it to pull himself up. "It's a snow angel."

Oberstein frowned a little more than usual. Not only had Ferner dragged him away from his desk to 'play in the snow,' he had also now gotten his uniform dirty. Ferner gave him a mischievousness smile before grabbing his wrist and yanking him down the sidewalk.

"Come on, we're on our lunchbreak anyway, let's go for a walk."

Oberstein followed him without protest except for a small sigh under his breath.

"Very well." he said softly. He allowed Ferner to lead the way on their small snowy adventure. They turned down a busy sidewalk, weaving in and out of throngs of people. Ferner then turned again, yanking Oberstein into the park. It was at this point where Oberstein pulled back, stopping Ferner in his tracks. Oberstein slowly rubbed his wrist before once again extending his hand.

"If you want to walk with me, then hold my hand. Don't just yank me along like some sort of animal." he hissed. Ferner's eyes flickered up from his hand to Oberstein's face, unusually sharp and distinctive. Ferner found himself marveling at just how much snow had piled onto Oberstein's hair at this point and how the sharp blue of his eyes contrasted. They flickered red and Ferner was broken from his trance.

"Paul I…" He took Oberstein's hand, squeezing it, bringing it to his lips and pressing a kiss against the back.

"Your hands are so cold. Maybe we should have gotten coats before we left."

Oberstein huffed audibly and Ferner found himself smiling.

"Come on, sir, I'll get you warmed up."

So they moved away to a park bench, Ferner pushing aside the snow so they could both sit down. He then took Oberstein's hands in his, cupping them together and breathing on them. He then rubbed them quickly, glancing up to Oberstein's face to check for some sign of recognition. Upon getting nothing he simply laughed and opened his jacket, pressing Oberstein's hands against his chest, sliding them down, wrapping them around his waist. Oberstein stared at him during the whole process as Ferner grew closer, knocking the snow from his hair, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. As he pushed a kiss on Oberstein's neck, he held Ferner gently under the jacket, warmth returning to his fingers at last.

"Anton." he said in a dull whisper. "Isn't this a little open?"

"Why?" returned a breathy voice, words impeded by Ferner's actions. "Are you scared?"

Oberstein sighed and closed his eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

The automatic door wooshed open and Mecklinger stepped inside. He crossed over the mess of the room and approached the bed. Bittenfeld had thrown himself down haphazardly and hadn't moved, giving him the look of having been dead for a few hours. Mecklinger smiled and leaned in, slowly pulling pieces of orange hair behind an ear. He then leaned down, whispering softly in that handsome baritone of him: "_Fritz_."

Bittenfeld rolled onto his back, staring up at Mecklinger.

"Ernest."

Mecklinger moved quickly, straddling Bittenfeld's stomach and leaning over him, bracing his hands on the bed and growing close. Their foreheads knocked and Bittenfeld frowned. Mecklinger was smiling, smiling like he always was, a warm smile that never failed to make butterflies in the pit of Bittenfeld's stomach. He looked to the left and right. Mecklinger's hair had framed both their faces, seemingly locking them away in their own world where only the two of them existed. The thought made Bittenfeld happy, if nothing else. A world all to his own with just Ernest, where he wouldn't have to worry about the upcoming judgement from Lord Reinhard and where he wouldn't have to worry about the future of his fleet without him, should the worst come to fruition. He sighed softly and rolled on to his side, taking Mecklinger with him in a surprise move. He then held him tightly, so tightly Mecklinger wondered if Bittenfeld wasn't trying to break him. He felt the man rest his face against his chest. Mecklinger sighed softly and embraced him, stroking his mop of orange hair, slowly smoothing out worried thoughts along with wayward hairs.

"Fritz, I believe that Admiral Kircheis went to talk to Lord Reinhard about your situation."

Bittenfeld grunted.

"Fritz, if that doesn't work, I'll ask Lord Reinhard directly to give me control of your fleets."

Bittenfeld grunted again and Mecklinger tugging on his hair a little. Bittenfeld looked up only to have fallen for Mecklinger's plan. They kissed softly at first before slowly getting more and more heated until Bittenfeld rolled over a third time, pinning Mecklinger down. He looked almost windswept.

"Let me top this time, please."

Mecklinger propped himself up on an elbow and gently cupped Bittenfeld's cheek.

"Very well." He whispered coyly before dropping himself back. Bittenfeld sighed dryly and quietly got to work undoing the jacket revealing the starched white shirt underneath. Then, ignoring that he leaned over him and gently kissed his neck.

"Sorry." he mumbled against the flesh. "I haven't topped in a while, so I'm a bit rusty."

Mecklinger chuckled a little and tugged on Bittenfeld's hair reassuringly.

"Just don't leave anything above the collar. Other than that, go ahead." he trailed a hand up the dip in Bittenfeld's back. "Make me your own piece of living art."

Bittenfeld pulled back inspecting the new hicky.

"You sure do like art a lot, you know that?"

"Mm, you're right, I do. Art is the most important thing in humanity. It's how we express ourselves."

Bittenfeld pulled open the shirt and trailed wet kisses down his chest.

"Aren't you going to get undressed too?"

Bittenfeld cursed under his breath before pulling away and peeling away the layers of his uniform until the both of them were shirtless, laying there illuminated by the lamp light. Bittenfeld climbed back on top and stared down at his lover.

"Take it back." He huffed and Mecklinger cocked his head.

"Take what back Fritz?"

He looked away, suddenly embarrassed at his jealousy.

"Say you like me more than art."

Mecklinger sat up again, even more confused than he was before.

"Fritz…" He let out a bark of laughter and wrapped his arms around his lovers neck.

"Of course I love you more than art." He poked Bittenfeld's chest, drawing circles on the pectoral muscles. Bittenfeld flushed up and tried to look away. He flopped down with all of his weight onto his back. Mecklinger, still chuckling, straddled him again and smiled.

"Shall I prove it to you?"

"I thought you were gunna let me top."

"You forfitted that right."

Mecklinger began to trail kisses down his chest and Bittenfeld closed his eyes, resigning himself to whatever might come.


	3. Chapter 3

"You should take better care of yourself sir."

Ferner sat on Oberstein's desk, quietly clipping his superior's nails. Oberstein looked up at him, genuinely confused, head cocked ever so slightly.

"And why should I?"

"Well, perhaps if you looked less… hostile, the other admirals would respect you more."

Oberstein looked away.

"It doesn't matter how I look, as long as I can get the work done."

Ferner set his hand down and took his other hand, looking over it before clipping them down.

"Besides the only person who looks at me with anything other than contempt is…"

"Me, your Excellency?"

"Yes…"

Oberstein seemed to sigh and look towards the ground. Ferner gently tugged on his hand, quietly reassuring him.

"Well if you ask me, sir, I think you're the handsomest man on the Kaiser's admirality, hands down."

Oberstein looked up and nodded. His face hadn't changed, but Ferner knew he was smiling.


	4. Chapter 4

Oberstein sat down on his couch and leaned back, allowing the stress from the day slowly melt out away. His body was at rest, but his mind was not. It constantly crunched away at plans and schemes. He was distracted suddenly by a soft whining and looked up. His beloved dog Spots had placed it's head in his lap, staring up at Oberstein with large puppy dog eyes. He smiled down at the dog and slowly stroked his head. The dog seemed to smile and Oberstein leaned down, cradling his head. "Spots… do you think I'm intimidating and scary?" Spots licked his face and barked, and Oberstein found himself smiling. "Yes, I think so too."


	5. Chapter 5

"You are my sunshine…"

"Anton…"

"My only sunshine…."

The soapy sponge slid over Oberstein's back, leaving a trail of suds in it's wake. Oberstein closed his eyes, leaning into the sensation. There was the sound of Ferner quietly humming to himself, dipping the sponge into the water and wringing it out before wiping Oberstein's back down again.

"You make me happy…"

Oberstein sighed softly, tutting under his breath.

"When skies are gray…"

"Anton."

He looked over his shoulder, staring at his adjutant who was quietly putting more soap on the sponge.

"You shower me with far so much love, do you know that?"

Ferner shifted, pressing the sponge against Oberstein's chest.

"You'll never know dear, just how much I love you."

Oberstein looked away, growing more uncomfortable with the situation for the moment. This was just way too odd a feeling.

"So please don't take…"

A finger tickled his chin and gently tugged it up. Ferner kissed him softly, smiling to himself as he continued his song without missing a beat.

"My sunshine away…"


	6. Chapter 6

They both laid together, naked from the waist up under the covers of Ferner's queen size bed. Oberstein's fingers were folded neatly together and were resting on his stomach. He was silent and motionless. He didn't even look asleep, rather he looked like a corpse. Ferner sat up slowly, gently touching his lover's face with the back of his hand. It was cool to the touch, just like the rest of Oberstein's skin normally was. Ferner frowned and slowly pushed his hair away from his eyes, which slowly opened. In the silence Ferner heard them whir as they focused and adjusted to the darkness.

"Is something wrong, Anton?"

Ferner shook his head, slowly playing with Oberstein's bangs, curling them around his finger.

"I just wanted to look at you.

"…I see."

"Well… there is one thing."

"And that is…?"

Ferner hummed for a moment, running a hand through his own hair.

"When you sleep… you look like a corpse." Oberstein slowly sat up, cocking his head and giving Ferner an odd look.

"Anton, can I ask you something?"

Ferner shifted, growing close to him.

"You can ask me anything… Paul."

"Anton, I'm blind."

Ferner blinked, unsure of how to judge the situation. Oberstein leaned in, slowly resting his head on Ferner's chest. He stiffened, unsure of what to do with this sudden display of affection. He settled for slowly rubbing Oberstein's back.

"I've… been in the dark for a very long time. Blinded by my…" He took a deep breath. He was speaking so casually…

"Blinded by my own issues. But Anton—" He huffed suddenly, pulling away, pulling the malfuncting eye from it's socket. For a while, it's blinking pupil was the only light in the room, casting a red glare on Oberstein's face. It was sad, so sad that it twisted Ferner's stomach into knots. He could do his best to protect Oberstein from others, but he couldn't protect him from himself. Oberstein noticed his discomfort and slowly closed his hands around the eye. The red flash disappeared and Ferner suddenly felt so much better.

"Anton. I've been blind for so long. I don't think I've ever been truly happy in my entire life."

He quietly reset and replaced his eye. Oberstein then gently took Ferner's hand, gathering his attention back to him.

"That was… until I met you, Anton."

Ferner hugged him, hugged him tighter than he'd ever hugged him before.


	7. Chapter 7

Oberstein twitched, finding it harder and harder to keep a straight face as Ferner worked his magic. He dug his nails into the armrest of the chair.

"Rear Admir… Anton…" He bit on his hand to stifle his own pathetic noises. Ferner looked up, pulling his mouth off of Oberstein's penis and gently running his hand through his superior's hair. Oberstein gave him a pathetic look through half-lidded eyes.

"Is something wrong, your excellency…?"

Oberstein shook his head, taking a deep breath and calming himself down.

"Nein, that is not the issue. I told you before we started…"

He looked away and seemed to fidget. Ferner, with his free hand, gently stroked Oberstein and kept him warmed up. At this his face flushed and he looked away, embarrassed and ashamed at his own human instincts.

"Paul, I can't know how to fix something if you don't speak up." Ferner chimed softly, slipping a hand down and cupping Oberstein's hot cheek. Then, he leaned in and kissed him lightly.

"I… Anton, I've never… done it quite like this before…" he whispered in… was that shame? Ferner chuckled softly and pulled away from Oberstein's face, getting back on his knees.

"Well then, I suppose I'll just have to make sure this time is the best, now won't I?"


	8. Chapter 8

"… Paul, what is this?" Oberstein looked up, in the direction of Anton's pointing finger. He paused for a moment and then turned back to his paperwork.

"I believe it's refereed to as a Mockingbird."

Ferner crossed his arms.

"And where did it come from?"

"It was on my desk when I arrived." He held up an envelope. Ferner opened it up, removing the plain white card.

"To my dearest Paul— Is this letter serious?" He shook his head. "To my dearest Paul, the level of which I care about you is incredible. You make my heart flutter and my knees go weak. I gift you this Mockingbird, so that you might always think about me. Signed, K"

Ferner rolled his eyes and sighed.

"It's a shame." He said, placing the card aside and crossing behind Oberstein.

"Because K will never get to have you." He embraced Oberstein from behind and buried his face in his hair. Oberstein simply smiled.


	9. Chapter 9

It was something Ferner learned long ago: _Paul von Oberstein did not show weakness. _Which is why, in his current circumstance, Ferner couldn't help but smile.

"Are you all right Paul?" Oberstein looked over to him, giving him what could have been a smile before it was interrupted in the rough cough he'd gained with the cold he'd picked up. Ferner set the tray of food aside, embracing the man and rubbing his back, holding to help his friend get over the fit that was shaking his already frail body. Ferner put his chin on Oberstein's shoulder, pursing his lips, thinking things over, before he leaned in and gently kissed Oberstein's cheek. Then he pulled back, though not missing the older man touch his face as if to rub the kiss in, and pushed the tray forward. Oberstein poked at the scrambled eggs with his fork and looked decidedly pathetic. For a moment, it made Ferner's heart leap.

_Ah, he's cute…_

Ferner turned away, setting up a movie. He hadn't seen it before but once and a while Oberstein had given it great reviews. As it wirred to life, he sat down next to him, stealing a piece of his bacon, and tried to focus on something that wasn't his hopelessly sick superior. The movie was rather silly. Something about a girl who lived in Kansas (was that a frontier planet?) and sang about rainbows and bluebirds. Ferner glanced up at Oberstein, who had a mouthful of eggs. Could his superior really enjoy such saccharine things? Oberstein caught him looking, and after looking down at his tray scooped up some of the hashbrowns that he had pushed to the corners of the dish and offered it to Ferner's lips. He accepted it happily and Oberstein looked back to his plate.

"I don't like hashbrowns."

Ferner couldn't help but laugh.


	10. Chapter 10

"Well, if you ask me sir…" I placed the cup in front of him. It was black tea, just like he'd requested. "I think you're very handsome."

Oberstein spun in his chair, staring up at me with his usual tired glare. When I refused to crumple under his sharp gaze he simply took the teacup and brought it to his lips. I knew better than to expect praise or thanks and turned away, walking back to my desk.

"Rear Admiral."

I was surprised. He still had something to say to me it seemed. I turned on my heel and walked back over to his desk, saluting to him first before taking a deep breath. He was looking up, a few papers resting between his fingers, held midway in the air as though he had paused mid-thought.

"I highly suggest you find better taste in men." He muttered to me. His voice didn't sound angry or judgmental, rather it just sounded like his usual self-loathing. I saluted to him again, understanding that he felt no malice towards me in the slightest. A small comfort, if nothing else. He returned to his work, the only noise in the room the sound of me breathing and the scratch of Oberstein's pen. I noticed the tea cup I had presented him with. He had placed it handle in, facing him, Oberstein's one unconscious sign of a job well done. I turned to hide my beaming face. Even though he rarely rejected what I gave him anymore, it still made me excited.


	11. Chapter 11

"Anton."

Ferner looked up from his desk, his gaze shifting over to his superior.

"Is there something you need sir?" He noticed it though, the way Oberstein's eyes flashed. Oberstein waged a finger, and Ferner slowly walked over.

"You expressed interest in my prostetics before, correct?" Ferner nodded.

"Very well, you have your chance." Ferner stared, before suddenly overcome with emotion. He swallowed it well however, and approached his superior. He parted the eyelids and gently grasped the eye and pulled it free. Then, he gently slowed the eyelid.

"Wink." he said softly, while Oberstein stared at him with his one good eye. Ferner looked down to the one in his hand. It was an interesting make, obviously customised just for Oberstein. He reset the artificial computer before slowly pushing it back into Oberstein's head. Oberstein took Ferner's hand, pressing his fingers against the palm, giving Ferner something that could probably be considered a smile.

"Thank you." He said plainly. Ferner nodded before turning away, left to his own devices. He sat at his desk and looked at his hand, as the warmth slowly faded away.


	12. Chapter 12

Oberstein stepped inside his house, his body seemingly deflating. He had just finished attending one of the Kaiser's various parties. As usual however, he had leaned against the wall and done nothing the entire time. He made patrols around the room once and a while but no one asked for a dance, and he asked no one. He sighed and plucked off his epaulets, setting them aside on the couch. As he undid his collar, he heard the scrape of nails against floor as his dog came trotting into the room. The animal jogged over to him and pawed at his shoes, whining softly as though to say _welcome home Master!_ Oberstein gently patted it's head, playing with the ears for a moment, before pointing downward. The dog immedtially sat down, looking up for further instruction. Oberstein opened his palm and the dog gave it to him. He repeated the process with the other hand, but made a blunder. He forgot to drop the dog's other paw, and was now holding both paws in both hands. The dog stood, with both paws in Oberstein's hands, and looked at him. It barked and wagged it's tail, sending it's entire back half into jitters.

_She's... dancing with me._ Oberstein thought, before suddenly letting out a bark of laughter. It startled even himself, but for some reason, he just couldn't stop. He laughed in a voice unlike his own, until his butler walked in with a face full of worry. After letting the dog go and denying any claims of alcohol, he had returned to his former self, but he made a mental note to give the dog a few treats before bed.


	13. Chapter 13

"Chief of Staff, sir."

Ferner placed the coffee down next to Oberstein, who glanced up from his paperwork. Usually, he looked moderately okay, but today he looked worst than usual. But then again, two consecutive all-nighters will do that to you.

"Bring me the next set please, G through J."

Ferner nodded.

"Yes sir."

He stared at his superior as he lifted the heavy mug, his hands shaking as he brought it to his lips. Ferner took a deep breath and then shook his head.

"Sir, I'm sorry but I can't do that."

Oberstein nearly dropped the mug.

"What was that, _Rear Admiral_?"

He hissed, in a worse mood than usual. Ferner winced.

"Sir…" He took his superiors hand and gently tugged on it, pulling Oberstein from the chair.

"I've been watching you sir. You're run ragged. You've already been up for 48 hours straight. Please, get some rest."

Oberstein went to move forward to reprimand Ferner but stumbled, Ferner caught him and frowned.

"Sir please, look at yourself… If you like…" He sighed softly, staring down at his half-dozed mentor.

"We can sleep together, if you like."

Oberstein steadied himself, straighting back to his former height. He glanced at Ferner, at the way the man was begging him with his eyes and his tone. He shook his head.

"Anton, where would I be without you?"

It was a surprise question but it made Ferner happy.


	14. Chapter 14

Oberstein leaned back on the couch as Ferner quietly opened the snaps on his jacket. The door had been locked and the curtains had been drawn. It was, for all intents and purposes, been totally clipped away from reality, as simple as snipping a rose from the stem. Ferner smiled and pushed the jacket off Oberstein's shoulders, tossing it across the room onto the desk. It scattered some papers and Ferner found himself on the receiving end of a particularly sharp glare from Oberstein. Ferner leaned down and gently stroked his cheek with a finger.

"We can always pick them up later." he cooed before pressing kisses against Oberstein's cheek. He moved down then, across his neck and down to his chest where he splayed his fingers across his pale skin.

"You're trembling, do you know that?"

Ferner pressed a kiss to Oberstein's sternum and allowed his hands to wander.

"I can stop, if you like."

"No."

Ferner looked up, surprised at just how fast the answer had come to him. Oberstein was giving him a decidedly demanding look, as though to say '_I really want this, so don't you dare stop!_' All it took was a moment and Ferner had melted, grabbing Oberstein's head and pressing his lips firmly over his superiors. This routine was normal and Oberstein had adjusted to it, learning all the motions of true passion, even if he wasn't capable of feeling that way himself. He slipped a hand into Ferner's silvery hair and even closed his eyes. For the moment, Ferner was proud.


	15. Chapter 15

"Lady Annerose, I-I'm sorry…"

Kircheis sat at his desk, beating himself off furiously to the image of Annerose in his mind. The image of her shirtless, her hair laying neatly over her breasts, the golden curls hiding and yet exposing her delicate pink nipples. He moaned softly, raking his hair with his hand.

"I'm so pathetic." he whispered to himself, closing his eyes.

At that second, the door slammed open. Started, Kircheis yelped and attempted to cover himself with the tissue box. Annerose stood there, at the door, in a low cut dress. It was probably one of then dresses she wore when the Kaiser called on her for nightly duties. It followed her every curve and Kircheis whimpered, feeling himself grow more horny as he stared. So he looked away, or he would have if Annerose hadn't closed the door behind her and crossed over to him, stroking his chin, running a hand through his hair.

"Oh Sieg…" she whispered, her voice as thought a Siren's song.

"Sieg, the Kaiser is dead." She said softly, gathering up his hand. "I'm free now. I can be with you." Kircheis smiled a little, not quite questioning the situation.

"Lady Annerose, if you get any closer to me…." he said softly. "You might see a side of me you won't like."

Annerose dropped to her knees, swatting the tissue box away and pulling her night gown down. Her breasts popped out, and Kircheis reached for for one. She smacked his hand lightly and smiled like a fox.

"Not yet." She whispered as she got close, pressing her breasts around Kircheis' hot member. He leaned back in his chair and stared down at him as she slowly moved them around. She then took it in her mouth, sucking on the tip at first, and then more and more until she had about half.

"Lady Annerose… did you learn this while in service to the Kaiser?"

She didn't answer only stuffed more of his cock into her mouth. Her breasts dropped away and Kircheis spread his legs. She dipped closer, deepthroating his cock and giving him the best blowjob of his life.

"LADY ANNEROSE!" he cried suddenly, grabbing her head and thrusting deep into her mouth. She took it like a trooper, swallowing every bit of cum Kircheis provided upon her. She then pulled back and sat on the desk.

"Sieg… oh Sieg…" She touched herself through the dress.

"I'm so… so hot and moist...…" She slowly lifted the veil and spread her legs to reveal a fully cooked onion pie. She took it out, cut a slice, and handed it to Kircheis. He looked up from the cake to her flushed face, down to the pie, before grabbing the slice with his hands and taking a big bite of her onions.

He cried.


	16. Chapter 16

"You know, you're very handsome."

"… Yes, you tell me all the time Anton."

Oberstein looked down to the man who had rested his head on his chest. He was smiling.

"I mean it Paul. If you took care of yourself, you'd be even more handsome than Admiral Reuental."

Oberstein closed his eyes and sighed softly.

"I don't know." He opened them and stared up at the ceiling fan.

"I think… I quite like this life."

He rubbed Ferner's bare back, traced his fingers along the shoulder blades.

"Anton, as you know, I've always felt… inferior. I don't believe I could ever… be with a woman."

Ferner sat up, cupping Oberstein's cheek in his hand. He stroked his cheek with a thumb but didn't speak. Oberstein continued.

"Anton, you mustn't tell anyone this but secretly… secretly, I am afraid. I don't want to breed another into my line, because if I do, I'll just be passing on my genetics." He reached a hand up and gently touched his hand.

"That's why I enjoy your company Anton. For once, I can stop worrying about things and just…" he closed his eyes and drew a shuddering breath.

"You don't have to continue." Ferner whispered, leaning down and kissing him.

"I understand."


	17. Chapter 17

It had all been going so well. They had taken a walk in the park, holding hands and treading the path hidden in the trees, as to keep themselves private. The clouds were gray but Bittenfeld didn't pay attention to them. It proved to be his mistake. First the rain began, a soft drizzle. Mecklinger pulled him under a tree with big leaves and cupped his face.

"Let's kiss until the rain stops Fritz." he had said so cheerfully and kissed him without even waiting for an answer. Bittenfeld agreed of course, wrapping an arm around the slender yet masculine waist, and holding his lover's head with his hand, his fingers tangled in the soft black hair. It had been so blissful, nothing but the two of them clinging to each other and the sound of the rain on the leaves. It had been so wonderful that Bittenfeld hadn't noticed the rain had gotten harder. As he looked up at the sky in, no it wasn't _fright, _A Black Lancer never shows fear! It was worry, more than anything. Trepidation.

"Ernie, I think we—"

Almost as if by command of Odin himself, the gates began to overflood. A deluge of rain seeming poured out of nowhere, followed by an incredibly loud clap of thunder. Bittenfeld yelped and clung to Mecklinger tightly, head buried in his lovers chest as though an emu in the sand. Mecklinger was surprised but recovered quickly, sinking to his knees and cradling the man's head to his chest. Bittenfeld clung and clung, gripping his friend tighter with every loud peal. Mecklinger hummed, stroked his hair, anything to try and calm Bittenfeld down. Slowly, the thunder cleared away, and they were alone once again. Bittenfeld slowly pulled back, rubbing his red face with his sleeve.

"You… ah… didn't see anything, okay?"

He said shyly, his voice low, as though he were a wounded animal. Mecklinger smiled kindly at him, pushing a wet tendril of hair behind his ear.

"See what?"

And they both began to laugh.


	18. Chapter 18

It had finally happened.

He had finally snapped.

"Paul, please—!"

"GET AWAY FROM ME!"

Ferner backed away slowly, pressing himself against the wall, watching his superior throw a tantrum.

"I'm SICK of this!" He cried, pulling at his hair. "I'm sick and tired of this pathetic existence!"

He crossed the long room, grabbed Ferner by the shoulders and shaking him. To say Ferner was terrified was an understatement.

"Paul, Chief Minister Oberstein, Darling I—"

"DARLING! HA, THAT'S A FINE NAME FOR ME!"

He yanked away, crossing the room again, waving his arms in wide dramatic motions.

"Do you know the last person who called me Darling?"

Ferner just stared at him.

"My mother! That's what she would do! She would…" Something seemed to click in his head.

"My mother, she would… hold me." He looked down. "She would say 'don't worry about the other boys, darling. They won't ever amount to anything.'"

He seemed shattered, slowly stumbling back until he reached the wall. Then, he sunk down, all of his anger gone, slipped away into self-hatred and tears. He hugged his legs, burying himself in his knees, a patented defense mechanism from all those years ago.

Sensing it was all over, Ferner slowly crouched low to the ground, crawling over to him. He pulled Oberstein to his chest, stroking his hair, squeezing him tightly. Oberstein clutched his chest, whispering 'es tut mir leid ' a thousand times, hanging on every word as though it would be the end of him if he ever stopped.


	19. Chapter 19

"Hey ARSELOCH!"

Bittenfeld sprung, launched from the floor like a horse from a staring gate. Oberstein spun at the noise and was immediately tackled by 190 pounds of muscle. They hit the floor and Bittenfeld grabbed him by the throat.

"What have you got to say for yourself, dickwipe?!"

Oberstein grabbed his hand, trying not to gasp with involuntary pain, and simply frowned.

"Admiral Bittenfeld. I would like it if you could get off of me."

It was well constructed response but even Oberstein could hide just how much the blow hurt. His face was twisted into pain. Bittenfeld stared at him and slowly let go of his neck. The man was usually so emotionless, but for once Bittenfeld was getting to see a side of Oberstein nobody else did. It was strangely… attractive in a way. It felt lucrative, slightly exciting, and dangerously arousing. Bittenfeld grabbed his collar and yanked him up.

"Listen here you shitpile!" he screamed, nearly spitting on his face.

"I hate you!" he affirmed, more to himself than anyone else, and then forcibly pushed his mouth over Oberstein's. After a few moments of lackluster kissing he yanked back.

"You fucking fuck, would you learn how to kiss someone?!"

"… Admiral Bittenfeld, please get off of me."

Bittenfeld stood up and hauled Oberstein off the ground. With a quick movement, he had the man pinned against the wall.

"Shut up. Don't you dare."

"… Admiral Bittenfeld, I was merely going to say, if you wish to kiss someone and receive attention in return, you should ask."

Bittenfeld flustered, the hand on Oberstein's collar traveling to his shoulder. He grew close, closer, closer still, until they were tasting each other's breath. Oberstein was calm.

"Kiss me, you bastard."


	20. Chapter 20

"Hey there, mein Oberbabe."

Oberstein set his pen down slowly.

"Is there something you need, Admiral Bittenfeld?"

Bittenfeld crossed over to him, lifting him to his feet by the collar.

"Sheesh, can't I visit my boytoy during lunch? Stop being such a hardass and kiss me."

He kissed Oberstein roughly, pinning him back against the desk, pressing his forearm against his throat. Ever since Oberstein had become Bittenfeld's personal sex toy, surprise visits like this had become generally routine. He sighed internally and focused on relaxing his muscles as Bittenfeld ripped open his jacket and undid the belt on his pants. Bittenfeld was as rough and uncaring as usual, minimal preparation followed by a generally savage fucking.

_'He didn't even close the door'_ Oberstein noted as various desk supplies dug uncomfortably into his back, along with Bittenfeld fucking into him relentlessly. It had really stopped hurting a long time ago. Just as Oberstein was finally getting used to this round, Bittenfeld paused, leaning in and kissing the curve of Oberstein's neck.

"I got you a present." He growled into the sallow skin, and Oberstein looked up.

"What?"

Bittenfeld pulled back, and out of his pocket lifted a black leather cat collar. It even had a tiny silver bell, which tinkled merrily in his hand. Be leaned down and wrapped it around Oberstein's neck, buckling it right against his Adam's Apple.

"There, now you really are just like my own personal animal."

Bittenfeld gave an uproarious laugh before grabbing Oberstein's hips and pulling back, but before he could thrust inward, Oberstein reached up and grabbed his collar. His face was alight with an anger Bittenfeld had never seen before, and considering the torture he enacted on Oberstein, that was truly saying something.

"I… am not… your pet." Oberstein hissed, unbuckling the collar as he spoke. "Now FUCK ME!" He roared, throwing the collar and bell past Bittenfeld's head where it smacked against the window and fell to the floor with a pathetic jingle.

"Fuck me as an EQUAL, FRITZ JOSEF BITTENFELD."

Bittenfeld was absolutely speechless. He slowly disengaged Oberstein's hand from his throat and laid him back down, pressing the forearm back against his throat. He began moving again, each one of his thrusts punctuated by suddenly gentle words.

"You know Paul, after all the shit I've put you through, I'm surprised you didn't crack sooner. Fine, I'll grant your wish."

He grunted and doubled over. He was still fucking Oberstein as relentlessly as before, but now it was different. He was focused on giving them both pleasure. Oberstein was different too, a hundred times more vocal, the usual grunts punctuated by soft moans and gasps. They were a lot closer, their chests pressed tightly together and their faces inches apart. Occasionally they even shared small heated kisses. It wasn't anything cliché like they'd realized they loved each other or anything like that. It was merely a sudden mutual sense of respect. Oberstein came first, splattering on his and Bittenfeld's chests. Bittenfeld took a few seconds after that, speeding up his thrusts to finally finish inside Oberstein. He groaned and slumped back on the desk, covered in a slimy film of sweat. He closed his eyes as he felt Bittenfeld pull out, perhaps hiding his shame as he felt the ejaculate inside him begin to slip out. Bittenfeld frowned.

"Ah fuck, Sorry Paul." He scratched his head. "That's not going to get out of the carpet easily…"

Oberstein sighed.

"Admiral Bittenfeld, just close the door."


	21. Chapter 21

"Rear Admiral Anton Ferner."

Oberstein set the career file down in front of him.

"Tell me about yourself."

Ferner swallowed and prepared his words.

"I'm a soldier I suppose. I worked with the military-police in the Kloppstock Incident and—"

"Tell me about home. Your family."

"Yes sir. I have a wife, named Matilda. She's very fair, if I might say so sir. As for children, I have two, a boy and a girl."

"Names?"

"Yes sir. Their names are Verity and Siegfried."

Oberstein sighed suddenly and stood from his chair. He crossed over to the window, staring down at the street below.

"It seems to be a very common name, doesn't it?"

Ferner nodded.

"Yes sir. To be honest, my son often looked up to Admiral Kircheis as a role model."

"… I see. Rear Admiral, let me tell you something."

He turned, staring Ferner down.

"When the lights go out, the shadows too must dim."

Ferner lowered his eyes to the floor.

"If Admiral Lohengramm were to loose this war, you and your family would most likely be executed for treason and desertion."

Ferner looked up and smiled coyly.

"With all due respect sir, I don't think that's going to happen. And if it does, I have no regrets."

Oberstein sunk into his chair.

"I see. Then let me give you the run down on my working style."

Ferner shook his head, sending gray curls bouncing. They attracted Oberstein's attention, the way the light bent when it bounced off them.

"I've heard the rumors about you."

"Very well, tell me what you've heard."

Oberstein leaned in, weaving his fingers together and examining this new adjutant closely. His body language was closely guarded. He had practice at giving exactly what the nobles wanted to hear for many years. But at the same time, his green eyes shone with a mischievousness light and he was clearly smarter than he seemed. Oberstein silent praised Odin for this new edition to his work pool.

"If I make speak candidly?"

Oberstein nodded and Ferner spoke. His body language was still tight and controlled, but his voice gained a light and springy attitude that Oberstein rather liked. This new one had a sense of fire about him.

"They say you're a real hardass, sir. They call you inhuman and that one day you might get a lot of good men killed."

Oberstein hummed and rested his head on his fist.

"Nothing I haven't heard before. Very well. Rear Admiral, come closer."

Ferner took the three steps it took to reach the front of the desk and Oberstein gathered up an inch-thick stack of papers.

"As a start, get to work on these."

Ferner took then and nodded.

"Yes sir." he said softly, turning on his heel and walking to his desk. It was out of the way, in the corner, but Ferner still had a direct line of sight at Oberstein, who had leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.

_"_Light and Shadow huh…?" He found himself smiling. "I get the feeling things are going to get fun from now on."


	22. Chapter 22

"Hey Arseloch."

Oberstein didn't look up. He knew exactly who was at the door. Bittenfeld frowned, leaning against the wooden frame, something clenched tightly in his fist.

"I got something for you. I guess you could call it a gift."

"I'm surprised at you Admiral Bittenfeld, normally you would have just stormed in here with reckless abandon."

Bittenfeld clenched his teeth. Shaking his head of the more violent thoughts he crossed over to Oberstein and tied around his neck the bright yellow ribbon he had in his hand. As he tied the bow he was suddenly compelled to strangle Oberstein with it, but his mom had given him this ribbon so he barely saw it fit for Oberstein's throat. He could never use it as a murder weapon.

"There. Now you're properly tagged."

Oberstein gave him a cold stare, the usual look. Bittenfeld wasn't repulsed however and in a surprisingly tender move, busied himself with fixing Oberstein's hair, running his fingers through the course locks until Oberstein spoke.

"Tagged, my dear Admiral?"

This is what Bittenfeld froze at. Terms of endearment. He shook his head, disengaging his hands from Oberstein's hair.

"Yeah!" he said sharply, crossing his arms and tossing his hair indignantly. "Don't you know, idiot, you're supposed to tag dangerous dogs with a yellow ribbon."

Oberstein sighed slightly, shaking his head. But he didn't untie it, instead stroking the silky fabric between his fingers.


	23. Chapter 23

It was the annual New Years Ball, one of the few institutions the new Kaiser had continued in his Reich. People twisted and turned on the ornate ballroom floor. If Odin were to peer down from Valhalla perhaps he would see the dancers as through flowers set adrift across a beautiful pond. There were many couples dancing, but none were more strange than the two in the far right corner. Paul von Oberstein regarded his dancing partner with cold eyes, though that wasn't exactly hard to do with mechanic eyes. His partner, Rear Admiral Anton Ferner was returning his icy glare with a positively steamy set of eyes that were trained on Oberstein's face, almost as if trying to melt the man down to his very core. As with any waltz, the two were intimately close. Oberstein could feel Ferner's breath on his neck, feel the possessive caressing hand on his waist. But most of all, he could feel the hand sensually massaging his shoulder.

"Paaauuulllll~" a voice crooned and Oberstein sighed.

"Rear Admiral, don't refer to me in that coy sort of voice. I don't deserve it."

Ferner pouted theatrically. "Oh, but Mein Paul, why must you be so down on yourself? I think it's a lovely name."

"You haven't had to live with it, Rear Admiral."

"Oh come on, why do you have to call me that? We're off duty, look, everyone else is enjoying themselves, even His Majesty."

Oberstein looked over his shoulder at the direction Ferner had gestured and it was true, Reinhard was in the middle of the room slow dancing with Miss Mariendorf. He shook his head, made a mental note to reprimand the young man once the event was over, and returned his attentions to the annoyance in front of him. The music had stopped but Ferner refused to part, instead wrapping himself around Oberstein, stroking his face, his ears, and twisting his long white bangs around his fingers. Oberstein frowned as Ferner kissed his cheek.

"Must you slather me with affection…"

"Say my name, and maybe I'll stop."

"No."

"Come on, just say it."

"I'm your superior officer, I can have you put away in an instant."

"Anton. That's all you have to say. An-ton. Simple."

Oberstein looked around subtly. No Bittenfeld, no Kesler, no Wahlen. Mittermeyer was introducing his wife to the other admirals, Reuental was hovering over by the open bar. For all intents and purposes they were alone. Oberstein almost smiled at Ferner's sneaky trick, he was clearly rubbing off on the boy.

"Anton." he said softly, slowly, allowing the man to get his kicks out of it, his reward for a game well played. Ferner nearly squealed, squeezing Oberstein in an almost backbreaking hug. Oberstein sighed and mentally prepared himself for whatever else may come, tonight was probably going to be a long night.


End file.
